The children of Hades are known for having a myriad of special powers, such as having a sixth sense for telling when someone is…

Chapter 8: Close to Death

Many times, Reyna had heard the story of the Battle of Mount Diablo; how Piper, with the aid of Leo and Jason, had rescued her father from the clutches of the terrible giant Enceladus. When Piper was telling the story, she was a just a girl with a knife, while Leo was a maniacal genius who could command heavy machinery, and Jason a dashing hero who single-handily did battle with huge, fire-breathing warriors. Piper's version of the story tended to omit two details that the boys usually included: Piper's ruthless slaughter of the lumbering Earthborn, and the heart-wrenching image of Tristan McLean, bloodied and beaten, tied to a stake before the giant's bonfire. Reyna could sympathize with Piper's father.

Her own situation wasn't too different, at the moment.

Bonfire? Check. The blaze had gone beyond campfire a little while ago. Beaten and bloody? Reyna was pretty sure there was blood on her face, but it was hard to tell, as most everything in that general area was numb. Her vision was blurry, her hearing pitched with a ringing that alternated between wedding bells and the clash of sword on legionnaire shield. Tied to a pole?

That was the most embarrassing thing about this whole fiasco. (Besides the part where they'd caught her in the first place.) Being tied to a pole was what they did to helpless captives. Had the Praetor been at full strength, it would have been simple to release herself and then run her captors through with the very stick they'd lashed her to. But being beaten within an inch of your life has a way of taking all of the fight out of you.

The human body has 24 ribs, and Reyna was certain they had broken at least 17 of hers, and probably all of them. In addition, her sword-hand had been twisted at an unnatural angle, and it wasn't a question of whether she had a concussion, but whether she'd ever recover from said head injury.

Reyna hated Dracanae.

Percy had told stories about running into the worst of this particular kind of monster; Echidna, Kampe, even running into the monster Lamia in New Jersey. (Though what Lamia was doing in New Jersey, Percy had never told her.) But even the lesser Dragon Women were a pain in the podex. Dracaena were crafty, and had ways of carrying around specific grudges and vendettas. They could be unpredictable, hard to read. And they had a habit of plotting and devising schemes that, when they actually worked, could prove deadly. Like, for example, holding a sentry hostage, waiting for a bigger fish to come and try to save the poor kid.

Reyna hated comparing herself to a fish, but it wasn't a bad metaphor. They had taken her, hook, line and sinker. It'd been going so well; her eagle had dropped her off in cover of dark, a fair walk from the enemy camp. Reyna hadn't gone all Percy Jackson and charged in without a plan- she'd taken the Annabeth approach, getting a feel for the situation, waiting for the perfect moment to move in.

Then they'd hit her in the head, and put a knife to Eric's throat, and just like that it was over. Or, her mission was over. They hadn't been done smacking her around, that was for sure. These monsters were too smart to take any risks when it came to someone as dangerous as Reyna.

There was one silver lining to all of this, and that was that Eric was still alive. So long as her captors didn't give in to their hunger and eat him, the situation wasn't totally lost.

Of course, Eric was a guy, and where Emposae were involved, that always meant trouble.

As if Dragon Women weren't enough, there had to be she-daemon as well. This just kept getting better. Oh yeah, and if Reyna could believe the bits and pieces she'd overheard, a bunch of Laestrygonian Giants would arrive by morning, and the whole happy entourage would march down to Camp Jupiter at sunrise, demand the Legion's Eagle in return for the Praetor, (herself,) and then, Eagle in hand, slaughter everyone regardless.

Yeah. Some days, being a demigod pretty much sucked.

Problem was, Frank trusted Reyna to come out alright. He'd be worried out of his mind by the end of the night, but he wouldn't send anyone to look for her and Eric until morning, which was right about when the stercus was going to hit the fan.

No one knew she was in trouble, no one was coming to help her, and when the sun rose, the world Reyna loved would be rocked to the core, just before she was killed. For the first time since Scipio, her pegasus, had laid down his life for her, Reyna Ramirez Arellano allowed a single tear to trace down her bruised and bloody face. She'd proven unequal to the task, and the Legion was about to pay for her mistake. She'd lost a case of 12 Imperial Gold javelins, her sword was gone, they'd even taken her silver folding knife. She had nothing.

So what was this feeling?

There was a warm hope that was coming not from deep within her, but from the silver ring on her right hand. Exerting what small strength she had, Reyna craned her neck and twisted her bound hands so that she could see the ring, see the design etched in the metal. Not the crossed sword-and-torch of Bellona…

But a silver skull, grinning a warped smile up at the girl.

The warmth from the ring continued to fill Reyna, taking the pain from her chest and her wrist, quieting the pounding in her head. As exhaustion stole over her, she whispered a name as she fell asleep.

Nico…